


Let The Hate Burn Through

by DefaltManifesto



Series: 30 Day Song Lyric Challenge [19]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Pre-Canon, Sexual Content, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 07:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13072299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaltManifesto/pseuds/DefaltManifesto
Summary: Reyson tries to cope with the massacre of his family. It's hard when you have the fragility of a heron.





	Let The Hate Burn Through

**Author's Note:**

> SO I could be wrong but I don't think I've seen any fics dealing with Reyson immediately after the Serenes Massacre, and I was super interested in exploring that. Also that idea fits today's lyric super well which is from a classic Johnny 3 Tears rage track, Does Everybody In The World Have To Fucking Die by Hollywood Undead: 
> 
> "But will the fucking world leave me buried alive"
> 
> I love this song. And also all of J3T's rage tracks. They're my fav. Title taken from a different lyric of the same song.

“Reyson…”

Reyson ignores Tibarn’s soft voice, covers tight over his heads. Tibarn’s been trying to get him to talk for weeks now since he rescued him and his father from the massacre. He doesn’t treat Reyson the way he used to. He treats him like he’s fragile and breakable instead. Tibarn sighs and shuts the door.

 

-.-

 

 

Herons aren’t meant to feel like this. They’re delicate, a blessing and a curse. It means they can soothe the passions of others but requires an internal serenity that under usual circumstances is easy to maintain. But this…this grief, this anger and rage. There’s no where for it to go. His body will crack and break if he lashed out, so he lets it churns and fester on the inside instead. It doesn’t matter what he does though, because it still damages him either way.

His stomach twists on itself. His hair is limp and appears dirty no matter how frequently he washes and his feathers begin to shed with nothing to replace them. Tibarn continues to dance around him like a nervous fletching. The rest of the Hawks avoid him too which isn’t all that surprising. Herons were supposed to be a calming presence. Reyson is certain his very appearance has the opposite effect and given the negativity swirling inside him, he’s confident he’s exuding it in waves too. Reyson wants to scream at them. What do they expect of him? He’s the last of his kind, his entire clan burned and murdered and tortured and stripped of their wings and feathers and he’d felt it all. And they expect grace?

That grace died with the rest of his clan. He has no need for their customs or calm nature, not now. Their peacefulness got them killed. Reyson has no intention of showing Begnion mercy, even if it means destroying his body in the process.

 

-.-

 

“Oh Reyson, you look dreadful.”

Reyson’s back stiffens and he whirls around from where he’d been sitting on the courtyard bench to face Naesala. He glares and Naesala just smiles in response.

“You took awhile to show your face,” Reyson says, sitting back down and turn his back to him.

“Your guard dog was feeling protective,” Naesala says, taking to the air before landing lightly on the bench beside him. “I can see why. Seeing you like this probably stirs up all sorts of instincts in him.”

“What about you?” Reyson asks. He looks out across the ocean instead of up at Naesala.

“I think you’ll be done wallowing when you want to be and there’s not much we can do about it,” Naesala says.

Anger surges hot and fast through his chest, making his muscles ache and his skin burn from the negative energy. He gets to his feet and grabs the center of Naesala’s jacket, hauling him down so they’re face to face and the whole time Naesala just smirks at him like Reyson’s only a passing amusement.

“And what would you do? If you were me?” Reyson hisses. His knees buckle from anger when Naesala rolls his eyes and it takes all his strength to stay standing.

“I’d get over it. Your father is still alive even if he can’t talk,” Naesala says. “Count your blessings.”

Reyson shoves him away and before he can think about it, punches Naesala in the face. Pain shoots through his hand and up his arm. He curses and pulls away. Naesala watches him with that same damnable smirk and the only thing that prevents Reyson from lashing out again is the knowledge that he’d only hurt himself more.

A screech pierces the air and Tibarn crashes into Naesala in full hawk form. Moments later, he shifts forms. He holds Naesala against the stone wall with a forearm braced against his neck, for all intents and purposes a fierce protector of Reyson’s honor.

“Stop fighting my battles,” Reyson says, cradling his hand close to his chest as he approaches them.

"That hand of yours is why you can’t,” Tibarn spits out. He shoves Naesala harder against the wall. “And it’s why I didn’t want him showing his face around here when you were like this.”

“Like what?” Reyson asks.

Tibarn still won’t look at him.

“Fragile?” Reyson asks.

When he looks at Naesala, Naesala’s smiling again. It hits him then what Naesala had been doing, what he’d been trying to get Reyson to do. Instead of tip toeing around him, Naesala provoked him into doing something without regards to Reyson’s safety because unlike the Hawks, he doesn’t give a damn about what’s proper or healthy.

“Look in a damn mirror, Reyson. Fighting is the last thing you should be doing,” Tibarn says.

"Ah yes, better to let him stew and have all that negativity tear him apart,” Naesala says, breathless. He coughs when Tibarn punches him in the stomach. Naesala just laughs.

“Let him go, Tibarn,” Reyson says. “Naesala and I have things to discuss.”

Tibarn releases him and turns to Reyson. “Fine.”

He vanishes in a flutter of wings. Naesala glares after him as he rubs his bruising throat before approaching Reyson.

“Let me see that hand of yours,” he says.

Reyson bares his teeth the way a hawk would but Naesala just rolls his eyes and grabs his arm before examining his wrist.

“If you’d punched any harder, you would’ve shattered these bones,” Naesala says.

“What does it matter?”

Naesala sighs. “Where’d all the fight go?”

"I don’t have any,” Reyson says.

“Oh on the contrary my dear prince,” Naesala says. “I don’t know what Tibarn sees but I see a man trying very much to be alive. It’s not in Herons to fight. Just look at your father.”

Reyson glowers at the sea and doesn’t spare Naesala a glance. He was right. Herons weren’t meant to fight, not even for their own lives. They often died from emotional ailments as well as physical, their constitution too fragile to handle an upset to the system, but here Reyson was anyways, somehow surviving when everyone else was buried under soot and ash.

“I should be dead,” Reyson says. “I’m fighting not to and look where it’s got me.”

“Mmm, you’re a bit on the rough side,” Naesala agrees as he comes to stand beside him. “But you’ll either come out of it strong or expire like the rest of your kin.”

“You don’t seem bothered by the idea,” Reyson says. “No wonder Tibarn doesn’t want you around.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Naesala says. “I care very much if you die, but I’m not going to make that decision for you, nor am I going to coddle you. You don’t get through this if you defer to your Heron instincts which is what the fool Tibarn is trying to get you to do.”

“So what?” Reyson asks with a razor-edged smile when he looks at Naesala. “I act more like a Hawk?”

Naesala gives a short laugh. “Of course not. No, Reyson, don’t blunder your way through your grief like an oaf with an ego two sizes too big for his body. Act more like a Crow. We survive everything.”

“And how do you do that?”

“By not giving a shit about what other people think,” Naesala says. “That anger you feel towards Tibarn is a waste of energy. Fuck him and what he thinks. You just worry about dealing with what happened.”

"Even if it makes me want to punch things?” Reyson asks.

Naesala glances at his hand. “Perhaps not. But there’s other ways to deal with that energy.” He crooks an eyebrow.

Reyson glances around and spies Tibarn circling in lazy circles above them in his full Hawk form. His lips curl in a snarl.

“Fuck it,” he says and pulls Naesala in for a kiss.

 

-.-

 

They fuck. A lot. Reyson can’t throw a punch, but he can claw Naesala’s back and bite marks into his chest and thighs. It doesn’t bring his family back. But at least he doesn’t feel like there’s something poisoning his blood.

“Fuck, Naesala!”

Reyson digs his nails into the sensitive skin just above Naesala’s nipples as he comes. Naesala retaliated with a bite to his collarbone and the pain rocks through him and makes his cock twitch with arousal as his orgasm finishes. He’s a fucking disgrace to Herons everywhere, not that it matters.

“Reyson…” Naesala licks the bite and presses a kiss to it when he comes, holding Reyson close.

Reyson combs his fingers through Naesala’s hair, his other hand bracing on the wall on the side of Naesala’s head. Naesala grins up at him. Reyson is far from whole, but Naesala is a pretty distraction.


End file.
